Ireland ! The second half of the 1970s! Segregation - in the same town, but across the road ! And, the small mental area that one has to build and get used to, to survive, in face of the challenges from two religious-political fronts. How does an ordinary eighteen year old girl cope with these happenings which stifle her life, with absolutely no one to turn to? Imagine that silent company is considered as the best she can get, under the circumstances. When her boy friend is so non-committed, and given the environment it is appropriate - even preferred. And she presents to us the narration, which is largely a monologue - a broad cross section of her social fabric. Where people are either with us or against us; you are expected to tolerate many things if it is caused by your side, whatever the injustice that it may mean to you. Our narrator who finds life on these terms unacceptable turns to the 19th century, or even before for escape, if not for solace. Given the 20th century that she knows gives her no respite, she'd rather keep her eyes to the past, glued to Ivanhoe and the like, than be part of the never ending political turmoil. Our narrator thus builds herself an invisible enclave of inaccessibility. She locks herself so hard in her enclave that the numbness starts to become self defeating."At first an emotional numbness set in. Then my head, which initially had reassured with, ‘Excellent. Well done. Successfully am I fooling them in that they do not know who I am or what I’m thinking or what I’m feeling,’ now began itself to doubt I was even there. ‘Just a minute,’ it said. ‘Where is our reaction? We were having a privately expressed reaction but now we’re not having it. Where is it?’ Thus my feelings stopped expressing. Then they stopped existing. And now this numbance (sic?) from nowhere had come so far on in its development that along with others in the area finding me inaccessible, I, too, came to find me inaccessible. My inner world, it seemed, had gone away."
The best example on how accommodating of the oppression the then public has become can best be gauged by the fact that one refrains from marrying the person he or she really loves, because the accompanying loss ( brought over by violence from one side or the other ) is expected, and (of course ) unbearable. The tendency not only to believe in gossip, but to add to that one's own version, in effect defining a character for the neighbourhood to believe in. It reminded me of certain certain scenes from Kafka's work - where K is so focused upon, targeted and pressurised upon over charges, the detail of which K doesn't know. Yes, most definitely the book contains the oppression as found in Kafka's fabrics.
Yet, among all this chaos, disorder, or worse still, the order in the acknowledged chaos, there are those who go against the grain, who dare to challenge the oppression, and who succeed more than our lass - although her contribution cannot be written off. Those "Beyond the Pale" types who almost unknowingly and appreciably leave room for change. The message of the effect of the toil who challenge oppression, has possibly never been so subtly set.
The beauty in the work is not apparent at first. Its as if one has to stare long enough through all that wordiness ( and a little weariness ?), synonyms, going off in-tangents for one to make out what Anna Burns says - subtly; so subtly, mired by all vocabulary. The patient reader will appreciate it, upon her realising the author's drift, her subtle message, her convincing environment build up. It's a strange beast, to be tamed and appreciated on its own merits, for its faults are few but in the style of the writer (probably, only there - and not a fault ), which to me looked as an intentional artistic mess.
Two different styles, with just a slice of a short story to tell ( maybe a short story's worth of a story ?), winning the Man Booker award back to back. The award committee seems determined to give new styles and experiments much recognition -and I for one commend them for that.
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